the writings of a manboy with a spotted bed sheet

How to Live Like an Overgrown Cactus

A marvel that he had nothing to do. A world so large, a thing for everyone, and yet he had nothing. Nor did he look for much. It’d all be mindless labor. Nothing to care about; all that had been tried. So he sat there, and slowly even the information came down to zero and his mind started to go blank, an unintended meditation. So he meditated until he was ready to starve, and it hit him, starvation! New info, new thoughts, meditation was disrupted. He went rapturously to his food, with all the brain power concentrated, all walls white and nothing to distract. He tasted tastes never tasted, and thought all he could about the bits he had eaten, the little blemishes on the plate, tried to count from memory the seconds it had taken to eat, envisioned the precise colors. He picked his teeth and scrutinized every piece he found, then tasted again, compared the taste to that of the freshly eaten. But at some point the teeth were empty, the plate memorized in every detail, tastes connected and compared and imaginarily combined, and the sounds of chewings of all particles analyzed. Then the blank came again, the forced meditation, and so he lived on.